The Heart of a Villain
by Dragoons84
Summary: This story is about the American War of Independence. An American family experiences for themselves what it's like to lose everything from one minute to the next and a young woman will experience that there is more to it than just her black stallion. She meets a man who will turn her whole life upside down. This man is a soldier of the British Green Dragoons.
1. The Lehman family

April 1775 a plantation in South Carolina

It was a beautiful and warm spring day. The flowers and the grass moved easily in a pleasant breeze of a light wind. The birds sang their songs from the trees. Dozens of these trees stood on the large estate. Lovingly planted and cared for. Their crowns bore the most beautiful flowers imaginable. Cherry and apple trees, now kissed awake by the spring sun, were waiting to present their ripe fruits some time later. Right in the middle of this large estate stood a house. It was a stately building and the porch invited to linger. Lovingly designed flower arrangements completed the picture, which complemented the pieces of furniture harmoniously.

In a rocking chair, made of dark and noble wood, sat an elderly man. His hair was grey and he had tied it back to a short braid. The glasses were on the front of his nose tip and his grey-blue eyes looked up at regular intervals from the newspaper he read so as not to miss the action around him. Because nothing really escaped those eyes. With a stern look and a firm voice he delegated his servants. They were slaves like everywhere else at that time. They came with the ships of the travelling traders from Africa or other colonies. But for Mr. Lehman they were not slaves in the direct sense. For him they were above all people. No more - no less. He even paid them for their work. This man was the head of the Lehman family. He was in his early 50s and a merchant for various colonial goods. He also had successful relations with Great Britain. Many of his goods went overseas. Tobacco, cotton, fabrics. The British thankfully took it from him. Because they could not grow such things themselves, which was also connected with the British weather. Over decades he built up his trade relations and became rich and wealthy. So it came as no surprise that he could afford such a dreamlike property with a guesthouse and stables and a dozen servants.

While his eyes wandered over the property, a woman sat next to him on a dark wooden bench. She was a beautiful person and much younger than her husband. But also in her appearance she differed clearly from the other women in the surroundings. She was a native Indian and a Cherokee. Her long black hair fell loosely over her shoulders. The dress she wore harmonized beautifully with her dark eyes. You could read a certain pride from them. A pride that was not so easy to break. Her hands were busy embroidering.

"What are you doing?" Something broke the silence. It was Stuart Lehman who hectically jumped up from his rocking chair and shouted this sentence at his servants. They desperately tried to catch a horse that had escaped. But this hustle and bustle did not go unnoticed. Heads now looked out of every corner.

"That must not be true!" The otherwise so quiet Stuart became abusive and it was not at all his way to react. His wife, who carries the name Galilahi and which means "attractive and pretty", stood up and approached her husband. She touched his arm. "Stuart, please calm down!" Her eyes met and his mind recovered a little. But that was only of short duration. In the next moment he almost lost his composure again. A young girl ran fast steps from the field across the meadow directly to the horse. She carelessly dropped the bucket of potatoes. "Raven!" She shouted it out loud and had soon reached him. In the meantime he had a rope around his neck. But he could not be tamed. He climbed up and hit the one helper on the head with one of his front hooves. He landed on his back with a loud scream in the dusty ground. "Tahoe!" Shoutend her parents at the same time and ran over the porch. Again their name sounded. But she did not listen to it. With her calm voice and her whole way she calmed the horse. She spoke quietly and calmly and put her hand on the head of the horse. With her other hand she carefully took the rope. Raven scratched slightly with his left front hoof and snorted through his nostrils.

"Miss Tahoe Lehman", her father shouted angrily. "What are you thinking?" He ran towards her. "Calm down, Stuart", his wife spoke to him. "Father, it's all good", said Tahoe, stroking her fingers slightly over Raven's mane. "If you think this is good..." He interrupted the sentence he had just spoken and pointed to the Kane lying on the ground. He had a laceration on his head. „Please Father and Raven didn't do this on purpose. You know best how he reacts to others!" Tahoe looked at him with her big dark eyes and with a look that all fathers know from their daughters. "Mmmh, all right. But you make sure that Raven doesn't harm anyone anymore. Did we understand each other there, Tahoe?" His look at her said it all. Understandingly she nodded to him. "Yes father! "Brings Kane into the house. He must be treated!" On the heel he turned around and went back towards the porch. Visibly annoyed and upset, he sat down in his rocking chair and tried to read his newspaper. Tahoe brought the meanwhile quiet Raven back into the stable. Mrs. Lehman and Joe helped the injured Kane to his feet and supported him carefully on the way into the house.

So this beautiful spring day was quite turbulent. To the taste of Mr. Lehman too turbulent. He had enough worries about his business. They were still going well enough. But the daily reports about the riots in the individual cities along the coast, which broke away from Great Britain and the crown, made him uneasy. With deep wrinkles on his forehead that felt more every day, he had to accept it as it was.

Later in the evening the Lehmans sat at the table and had dinner. There was stew. Mrs. Lehman was an excellent cook and so it was never surprising that her house was well attended most of the time.

During the meal Stuart remembered the news he had read in the newspaper unpleasantly. His wife noticed the change in his behavior. "Stuart, darling. What about you", she asked him. He briefly closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. "Don't worry. It's all right." His gaze hit hers. He sighed and then continued. "I'm just worried about this bad news from Britain and the colonies." A silence arose at the table and Stuart rose. He went to the fireplace and looked into the blazing fire. The flames were reflected in his eyes. "There will be war!" His voice, his words - they sounded hard and yet you could hear a certain degree of concern and fear. He turned around to his family sitting at the table. His daughter slowly let the spoon sink onto the plate and looked at her mother. She drove her hand soothingly over her daughter's hand. "Are you sure you're Stuart?" He took turns looking at his wife and daughter. But he said nothing. Silently he sat down on his chair again. "We can only hope. Only hope", he said after all. "What if the war really comes, father?" Worried and questioning, dark eyes looked at him.

"Then only God can help us!" His words, they remained silent in the room. He took his cutlery and tried to continue enjoying his meal. His two women at the table looked at him and tried to devote themselves to their food.

Some time later the time had come and the reports of the first fights came through the cities. It was not long before the mobilization was declared. Now it was there! The war. Although not felt close, but it was there. In the cities, in the villages - slowly it crept up. Like a predator that had its prey firmly in sight. The Lehmans also noticed the change. But everything was to become much worse than they could ever have imagined. At the latest in one year they will get to feel it on their own body. But they could not know that now at this time yet.

During these first fights between the British and soldiers of the American colonies, especially a young and brave soldier made a name for himself. It was a Lieutenant of the British Cavalry Regiment, called the "British Green Dragoons". A man with a name that everyone in the colonies knew in less than two years.

"William Tavington.


	2. British Green Dragoons

"British Green Dragoons"

"What a view," said the officer with the red uniform jacket, which it revealed as cavalry. He wore it open and half of the white shirt underneath hung out of his breeches. Even the shirt was open, allowing glimpses of his male torso. The only thing in an acceptable condition was his hair. They were as impeccable as ever. Satisfied, he took a pull on his pipe, which hung casually at the corner of his mouth. "Oh yes," the officer next to him replied. His appearance as far as the uniform was concerned was in a similar chaotic state as that of his neighbour standing to his left. His uniform jacket was also open, and the shirt he was wearing underneath was also deep. The hair he wore open and he had beautiful long, dark hair. It made him look rebellious. So they both stood there now, in their not very handsome exterior and enjoyed the view. But this scene was absurd. For they not only stood there and looked at the surroundings, but were also tempted to piss on the grassy hill. Among them was the battlefield. There lay many dead and injured soldiers. It was a simple fight. For the British at least. Within shortest time the American soldiers were overrun and defeated. The "Green Dragoons" had a big part in this success. Without mercy they rode down their opponents and offered no pardon. Those who stood in their way had no chance.

While British soldiers on the battlefield were making out about the remaining belongings of the fallen soldiers, the two officers talked loosely about the experiences of last night.

"But by no means as beautiful as the view I had last night," said the blonde officer. There upon both grinned. "Damn," the dark-haired officer shouted, apparently in pain at his noblest spot. The two soldiers looked at each other and the blonde only answered him: "My dear William and you should have taken it a little easier!" His laughter made his comrade pull out his face. What was first marked by pain now showed a serious expression. "My dear Captain Bordon, may I kindly point out to you that I am still your superior officer," he pressed out between his teeth. But Bordon just grinned again and shook his head slightly. "The little one could also do things with her mouth, though." Now it was William who had a mischievous grin around his mouth and his blue eyes flashed. "Which one did you have?" His captain asked him with interest. "The pretty dark-haired one," the other replied. "With the big tits," the blonde wanted to know. William grinned and nodded his head. "Mmmh yes not bad. But the redhead...she was very clever with her hands. You have no idea what she could do with it!" Now both grinned boldly and William pulled up his left eyebrow.

"Colonel Tavington, Captain Bordon!" Sounded a voice from the background. These just mentioned persons pulled their faces synchronously. _Go away, O'Hara. Nobody needs you here!_ It was the thoughts the Colonel had about the person who just appeared. General O'Hara, an inflated, conceited snob! It was no secret that Tavington didn't like the General. No, not liking would have been an understatement. He hated him! But unfortunately he could not show it so openly. Finally O'Hara stood clearly above the colonel in the chain of command. How often William has wished to slit the General's neck! It was just pure hatred and the mood deteriorated when both men met immediately.

"General O'Hara," Tavington questioned bored. Because he was not interested in the General talking to him. That's why he didn't turn around. Only Bordon put his best piece back in his pants, hastily he tried to put his shirt too. With more or less much success. He omitted it and turned to O'Hara. With his pants half open and his shirt completely crumpled, he tried to take a stance. "General, Sir," he spoke quickly and put an innocent-looking expression on his face. The general stood there like a statue. His back was straight and stiff, as if he had swallowed a stick. His arms crossed behind his back. The head stretched upwards. The face austere and arrogant. No emotion showed itself with him. His uniform was impeccable. The boots, black riding boots, so polished that one could have reflected in it.

"Colonel Tavington! Perhaps you would have the kindness to turn around when a General talks to you!" But William didn't think of doing this in life. Now the General became sharper in his wording. "Colonel Tavington!" It was so loud that some soldiers who were very close turned to them.

"General O'Hara!" It sounded like a growl coming out of the mouth of Tavington. He twisted his eyes and finally wrapped himself in his pants, closed them and turned to O'Hara. But when he did this, his facial expression petrified. Both looked at each other with hatred and cold eyes. There was absolutely no sympathy for each other.

"How thoughtful of you, Colonel, and that you have the kindness to enter into conversation with me."

"Sir," William replied, completely unimpressed, leaving him cold that a General was standing in front of him and talking to him. But this O'Hara was now visibly more annoyed by the way Tavington showed himself. He came closer to him. William's eyes looked cool and he slightly pulled up the corners of his mouth, giving him a really arrogant smile. "What do you make a Colonel Tavington?" The mood between the two became more irritated. "Take an attitude when I'm talking to you!" But Tavington hardly changed his attitude. On the contrary. He continued to provoke O'Hara by shifting his position and now standing opposite him with his arms crossed behind his back.

"The way I see it, it was not a good idea to give you and your Dragoons off duty last night." With the word Dragoons O'Hara only disparagingly distorted his face. Tavington noticed this and had great difficulty keeping his emerging negative emotions in check. "Sir," William questioned and gritted his teeth at each other in rage. "General Lord Cornwallis awaits you!" The three men looked at each other and for a brief moment it seemed like icy silence. "In an hour. Fort Lexington!" The General turned half away from both officers. While Bordon stood rooted, Tavington was about to explode. "There was one more thing." When O'Hara said that, he quickly turned around and approached both men even closer. Despising and disgusted, he poked his nose. "You should...", he briefly interrupted his sentence and then continued talking. "Do something fresh! You stink worse than a whole French whorehouse!" "Really General?" Tavington looked at him amused. But O'Hara answered nothing. But he let his eyes wander silently from Tavington to Bordon and back again. He turned back on his heel and added one last sentence: "In one hour Colonel! See to it that you get yourself in order. You are a disgrace to the entire British Army!" With these words William took a step forward to go after the General. But Bordon held his arm. "James", the Colonel growled and looked at him angrily. "Leave him alone William!" The eyes of him became dark and in him the rage came up. Now was the perfect moment to slit the General's throat from behind. A little movement from Tavington to his knife, what was in his right boot and in seconds this would be a disturbing thing out of the world. Soon it would have happened. If Bordon hadn't been there...who knows exactly how that would have ended? But William thought of a better one and got himself under control again. So it had at least the appearance. Because one half in him was still bubbling and it only took one word or gesture to make this happen. "Colonel!" Captain Bordon brought him back to now and here. William just nodded and distorted his face. A long pull on the whistle of Bordon brought both to departure. Each of them went into his tent to prepare for the report at Lord Cornwallis.


	3. Preparations

Tavington arrived in his tent and everything broke out of him. All the rage was released. With a single arm movement, he swept all the utensils off his desk.

 _What is he thinking? This pompous, jealous and inferior person of General! Who does he think he has in front of him? A private one? One of his employees? I, Colonel William Tavington, do not let myself be treated that way. He will pay for it sooner or later._ His thoughts about the General did not stop. On the contrary. They began to spin in circles. His hands clung to his desk and he bit his teeth so hard until his jaw began to hurt violently. Damn you and pull yourself together! Don't let such a second-rate General run you off rank. He is not worth the penny!

Tavington stood with his back to the entrance of the tent and didn't notice how Lieutenant Wallace entered the tent. "Colonel Tavington!" No reaction came from him. Only when Wallace approached him a second time did he react. "Colonel. Sir!" Tavington quickly turned to the Lieutenant and looked at him with a face marked by anger and rage. Wallace opened his mouth but he couldn't make a sound. Too much he knew that look of the Colonel. Those ice-cold eyes filled with hatred that he had seen so many times while fighting side by side on the battlefields. So it was probably better not to say anything to the Lieutenant. A short silence arose, which Tavington first broke through. "Ah, Lieutenant Wallace!" "Colonel!" William took a few steps towards him as he took off his jacket. "Colonel, Sir. I was told you were leaving for Fort Lexington..." He interrupted the thin voice of Wallace. "Lieutenant Wallace, make sure the horses are ready to march in half an hour!" "Which horses Sir?" "Only my horse and Captain Bordon's." "At your command, Colonel!" The Lieutenant was about to leave the tent when Tavington called after him. "Bring me something where I can freshen up!" "Understood, Colonel Sir!" Wallace disappeared in a hurry. Because once Tavington had given an order, it was to follow it immediately and without discussion. Anything else would be completely pointless. While Wallace personally took care of the Colonel's affairs. He cleaned and saddled the horse. A beautiful fox, with a white blaze and white markings on all four legs. They were even and reached over half the fetlock. He was an English thoroughbred. A strong and fast horse. Enduring and tough, perfect for Tavington. His name: Blizzard. The Lieutenant was very meticulous about every little thing and he knew exactly how the Colonel would react if something did not fit his horse accurately. Then he could get very upset.

A Private brought a bowl of hot water to Tavington. With a cautious voice he revealed himself as he stood in front of the tent. "Yes!" William shouted loudly and clearly and the Private stepped in quickly but with caution. "Colonel Tavington. Sir!" With big eyes he saw his officer sitting on his chair, his legs crossed, they lay on the desk. In his hands he had a knife. The Private's eyes grew bigger and bigger as he saw how fascinated Tavington looked at the knife. The silver blade flashed in the light of the tent. "Sir!" "Just turn it off Private!" William didn't look at his soldier when he answered. "Yes Sir." When he put the bowl down and got ready to go, Tavington suddenly got up and let the Private take a step back in fright. "Private..." and a word pause arose. William thought about the name. Too many new recruits came in the last weeks. Too many new faces. "Private Mitchell, Sir," he replied very uncertainly. "Ah Mitchell," Tavington repeated, grinning slightly. This made him even more insecure. The silence was broken when William, with a quick movement of his hand, stuck the knife into the surface of his desk. Mitchell jerked together in shock. But the Colonel grinned and saw the fear of the Private. He stood with his arms crossed in front of his desk and looked at the soldier standing in front of him. His gaze went from top to bottom and there was a slight smile on his face. To match, he pulled up his left eyebrow. Apparently he recognized the potential of the Private. Or he just recognized more "cannon fodder" for the next attack. "Thank you Private Mitchell and that'll be all." Mitchell took a stance, salted and left the tent in a hurry. William just shook his head and grinned. He sat down on his chair again and drove his hands over his temples. His aching head immediately made him think of last night. He smiled and thought of the small town. To a certain house there. A sign hung over the entrance door. Tavern stood on it. But it was much more than just the alcohol there. By conversations one found out very fast that there were offered also still other things there. The interest of the soldiers was aroused. They were curious and excited and looked forward to the variety and diversion. So it was not surprising that Tavington and his men went there last night. There was nothing more beautiful than a hot fuck with a willing young woman. There were a lot of them in the American colonies. Many women were all too fond of being fucked by the British. The Dragoons were off duty last night and shamelessly exploited it. General Lord Cornwallis gave it to them as compensation for their outstanding achievements on the battlefield. For weeks, they had seen nothing but death and dying and above all only men around them. "But please don't forget Colonel Tavington, you are the Majesty's soldiers and behave like gentlemen accordingly!" These words echoed in Tavington's ears and he had to smile. He thought of the pretty dark-haired woman who had taken great care of his well-being. A short sigh came out of his mouth and he drove himself through his long dark brown hair. Here in the pale light of the tent it looked black. His right hand drove over his face and noticed the stubble of his beard. He pulled his knife out of the desk top and put it back into his right boot. With a quick movement of his hand he fished his pocket watch out of his uniform jacket and looked at it. He urged himself to hurry. He quickly pulled the white shirt over his head and put it aside. His well-trained and muscular upper body clearly showed traces of last night. Red striae stretched across his back and chest. He had to grin as he looked down at himself. There were traces of fingernails on his hairy chest. They went over his flat belly and further below his belly button. They ran parallel to the growth direction of his hair and when he opened his pants and pulled them down a bit, he saw a small dark red spot, not far from the point where his hair curled to his tail. "You damn beast," William just hissed and grinned again. He kept getting ready and took off the rest of his uniform. Now he was naked and washed himself. Then he stood in front of a wooden pillar to which a mirror was attached. It wasn't really tall. But it was enough that he could see himself shaving. Elegantly he let the razor slide over his cheek. For him this was the absolute highlight of the day and he celebrated it with incomparable devotion. The water he sprayed into his face to remove the remaining foam ran down his neck to his chest. There the drops of water got caught in his chest hair. They glittered like little crystals and he took a cloth and dried himself with it. He went to his wooden chest, opened it and took out a fresh uniform, put it on and cursed inside those much too tight pants they had to wear. For his great masculinity felt more than constricted. Afterwards he put on his belt, took the helmet and the gloves and left his tent. There Captain Bordon and Lieutenant Wallace were already waiting with the horses. They nodded to the Colonel and raised their hand to greet him on the helmet. "Colonel Tavington," said Wallace and Tavington passed him. He put on his helmet. "Everything prepared Lieutenant?" "Yes Sir," Wallace replied. William went to his horse, climbed up and took a seat in the saddle. Captain Bordon was already sitting on his horse. Also an English thoroughbred. Only the colour was different from the horse Tavington had. Blizzard was a fox and Crassus a brown. He waited for the Colonel's order to ride. But he put on his gloves in peace, took up the reins and spoke to Bordon. "Captain!" "Colonel Tavington!" William steered his horse to the left and set it in motion by trap. Bordon followed him and both men rode off. Together they left the camp for Fort Lexington.


	4. Fort Lexington

After a short gallop ride and a few minutes later they arrived at the fort. It was not far from the camp where the rest of the soldiers were. When the guards saw them, they opened the gate and let them in. Tavington and Bordon trampled their horses towards the stables, descended and handed them over to the soldiers. They took off their helmets and went into the big main building which was built in the middle of the fort. General Cornwallis would be waiting for them there. They walked down a corridor and were killed by pomp and splendour. There were also here some gentlemen who did not want to do without their amenities. War or not. But to choose expensive carpets for a war fort as a furnishing was one such thing that William only acknowledged with one eye rolling. They arrived at a massive wooden door. This double door was already half open and they were received by the Lord's adjutant. He accepted their helmets and kindly offered them into the room. Both officers entered one by one and saw Cornwallis and O'Hara standing at a large table with a card spread out. They talked. Tavington and Bordon looked at each other and made good mines. Because they both didn't really want to be here at all. The Colonel cleared his throat and the next moment the Generals turned their eyes to the two officers.

"Colonel Tavington, Captain Bordon! It's nice to finally have you here." Cornwallis walked up to the Colonel and as he stood right in front of him, Bordon immediately took up position. Tavington didn't. The Captain did not pull a mine and William smiled slightly. "I see you both seem better!" Tavington just raised his eyebrow questioningly. "General O'Hara told me about an incident this morning. The officers seemed to lack posture." Now William and James looked directly at the General and William's gaze went on to O'Hara. He returned the Colonel's gaze with a hemic grin. That damn bastard, William thought. "My lord, I don't quite understand," Tavington replied. "Colonel Tavington, I don't need to tell you how to behave towards other officers. Especially those above you in rank!" Cornwallis looked at him insistently and held his head slightly slanting. "Did we understand each other Colonel?" The looks of the men met. "Yes, my Lord." Cornwallis nodded his head contentedly. "Wonderful, and if that's settled now, we can move on to the actual part." Finally Tavington also took a stance and pulled the air sharply into his lungs in order to let it slowly escape again. Cornwallis went to his desk and asked the gentlemen to follow him. "Gentlemen," said the General, searching at the same time his records and documents in front of him. Bordon and Tavington did not move from where they were standing. The Colonel allowed another look in the direction of O'Hara. He still showed his disgusting grin. One could even read a certain satisfaction from his face. Tavington only slightly pulled up his left eyebrow and turned his mouth to an arrogant smile. "Here it is," and Cornwallis held a letter in his hand. "Gentlemen and if I may ask." He hinted at the men and politely asked them to come closer. While O'Hara stepped right next to Cornwallis, the Colonel and Captain remained on the opposite side of the desk, eagerly waiting for the things to come. In William the restlessness rose and he wanted to leave this room as soon as possible. Only Bordon seemed to carry it all with composure. "I had the last few weeks a distinct and pleasant correspondence with a family living here in South Carolina. A very well-off family with their roots in England". While Cornwallis told this and read it from a letter, William and James looked at each other only briefly and Tavington twisted his eyes just bored. "We would be very pleased to welcome you to our estate, General Lord Cornwallis. Respectfully Stuart Lehman." If the Colonel had wanted and been able, he would have let go a sigh. Another aristocrat's family and how I love it. The thoughts spin their own image in his head. But why did the General tell all this? What was the point of sharing this information with him and the Captain?

"A really lovely family," O'Hara said, arrogantly raising his head. This was enough for Tavington to freeze all his facial features. With a slight sideways glance from Cornwallis, he immediately recognized the reactions of the two men and skillfully tried to counteract. "Yes, a very charming family. Extremely generous and with the best contacts". With this sentence the General looked directly at the Colonel. But the Colonel only raised his left eyebrow questioningly. "My Lord," Tavington replied. "That's why I discussed with General O'Hara in advance that it would be best if you would accompany us." William only looked at him questioningly and before he could give an answer to the sentence, he continued: "I just want to make sure that nothing happens to us on the way to the Lehmans. Be it through the colonials or militias. It is good to know to have you at my side, Colonel Tavington!" What should he do? Accompany him and the General? Why? Wouldn't it be better to choose a low ranked officer for this task? A Captain or Lieutenant perhaps? But not a Colonel! He really had better things to do than play the watchdog. Especially when the General was nearby. Because then the trouble was inevitable.

"With all due respect, my Lord. But don't you think someone else could do the job?" Tavington's gaze wandered back and forth between O'Hara and Cornwallis. The Lord noted this and looked briefly at the General. "My Lord, I also think this task is perfect for our Colonel." O'Hara's words and his arrogant grin felt like a slap in the face to William. "I agree with General Cornwallis," he said, turning his head towards the two officers and looking at them with a penetrating look. It's an order! Did we understand each other there?! "On this occasion, the Colonel can also show what a true gentleman he is." O'Hara did not omit his grin when he threw this sentence at Tavington's head and followed immediately. "It would be too bad to waste your potential Colonel. After all, the people only know you by the name of The Butcher!" The Colonel had a lot of trouble holding on to himself in this last spoken sentence. Painfully biting his teeth together and the left hand behind his back, he clenched to a fist. "I'm sure the Colonel knows how to behave toward such a family." Cornwallis sent Tavington a look that said everything. But William was annoyed by O'Hara's remarks. "I think you're overestimating yourself, General." "Do you mean Colonel?" Both men looked at each other with an ice-cold look. "You General O'Hara, I would love to see you on the battlefield. In the face of the enemy." "You might like that! "It would be very interesting to see if you can let your words speak for themselves!" "You Colonel should have noticed how I gloriously defeated the enemy. At that time in the fight for the city of Pittsburgh." O'Hara pulled up the corners of his mouth and made him smile so arrogantly. "Of course, General, and I would add that this was your first and last accomplishment in this war." "How dare you Colonel Tavington?" "Just the truth, General." Now it was William who grinned arrogantly and made the General look pale in the face. O'Hara looked as if he had been pushed to the head. But that didn't last long and he countered so immediately with a sentence that Tavington should hit directly. "It's really a shame Colonel that you're so the opposite of your highly acclaimed father! A man like you, Tavington, who comes from such a prestigious family, should know exactly what the priorities are! William's facial features petrified and now it was he who turned pale and let his gaze wander into emptiness. O'Hara knew exactly how to meet Tavington. He beat him with his own weapons. The words did not miss their effect. In the military leadership everyone knew about the Tavington family. William's father, General Tavington was a respected man and the complete opposite of his son. So it was not surprising that William tried to step out of the great shadow of his father at any time. What he did sometimes more or less well. "With all due respect, General, but leave my father out of this." "Why Colonel? Are you uncomfortable being confronted with the truth?" The point was reached where William finally reached. He pulled his eyebrows together and his otherwise so bright blue eyes turned dark. Now it was up to Cornwallis to defuse the situation.

"General O'Hara, Colonel Tavington. I would ask you both to continue this discussion at an appropriate time." "My Lord, it is a real pity to end this conversation. Just when it got so interesting. Right, Colonel Tavington?" He said nothing about it and just looked at the Lord silently. "Enough now! Let's get down to business." Cornwallis was getting tired of making these eternal speeches. But he had to do it. Also because of his own nerves. He did not always agree with Tavington and his actions, which he gave him more than clear to understand. Sometimes it was so that the words arrived and were understood. But on some days, they missed their effect completely. Yet Cornwallis held on to Tavington. Perhaps in the belief that at some point William would find the solution to his real problem on his own. But until then it seemed to be a long and rocky road. Until then the Lord Tavington tried again and again to steer into the right path.

"We will leave tomorrow morning and will not need long to arrive at the Lehmans. I would ask you Colonel to select some of your Dragoons to accompany us. There don't have to be many. Half a dozen should be enough. Furthermore, I have instructed Major Howard to leave some of his men to us. This should be enough for us as protection and defense if we are attacked." "My Lord, I don't think a dozen men are enough for your protection." "Colonel Tavington, wasn't it you who recently took it up against 20 militias alone?" Cornwallis did not want to hear any objections and immediately took the wind out of the sails of the Colonel. For he had already opened his mouth in one movement. "Enough now. Here is your order Colonel Tavington. Choose a few men and be ready to march on time tomorrow morning. Have we understood each other Colonel?" "Understood my Lord!" "Colonel Tavington and if you have any more questions, I would ask you to leave. The General and I still have some preparations to make regarding tomorrow." Cornwallis wanted to turn away and dedicate himself to the General when Captain Bordon whispered something to the Colonel. Tavington nodded his head in agreement and a grin appeared on James's face. "There was one more thing, my Lord," William said. "I hear Colonel." William now had Cornwallis full attention. "If we don't have active duty tomorrow, the possibility would be..." Cornwallis interrupted him and he wasn't really surprised by the Colonel's concern. "You are in the service of, Tavington. Today, tomorrow and the next days. You and your men!" "But my Lord. I..." "Enough now and Tavington, I don't want to have to tell you again." The grey eyes of Cornwallis looked curiously into the faces of the officers. "My Lord, I suppose the Colonel was thinking of the possibility of getting off duty tonight. Am I not right, Colonel Tavington?"

O'Hara, of course, had to pour oil into the fire again. As it has always been his way. Cornwallis nodded his head. "Off-duty," he repeated. There was a silence and even before Tavington or Bordon could say a sentence, it was O'Hara who used this moment in his favour to dissuade the Lord from this idea. "If I may add this, my Lord. The Colonel and his men had already been off duty yesterday and allow me to mention that you look quite attacked Colonel Tavington." O'Hara now played all the cards. Also to know that he still had an ace up his sleeve. He turned to Cornwallis and captured his reaction. "Where the General is right," said the Lord. "Your request is denied Colonel." The face of O'Hara showed an arrogant smile full of satisfaction. This was what Tavington would have liked to have beaten off his face. The grin Bordon had just had vanished just as quickly as the good mood in the room. "My Lord," William replied. "That would be all, gentlemen. See to Colonel Tavington that you and your men come to rest. Maybe get some more sleep that night. Did we understand each other there Colonel?" Tavington, contrite, agreed with him. There was no other option for him either. As they were about to leave, O'Hara Cornwallis whispered something. He called both officers back.

„One more thing, gentlemen. Pack your things, please." Tavington and Bordon looked at each other speechless and William raised his left eyebrow. "My Lord?" "It would be quite possible during our absence for the front line to shift and we want to be prepared for anything." Tavington just nodded, turned around on his heel and hurriedly left the room. With momentum he opened the door that the adjutant actually wanted to open for him, ran past him grumbling, pulled the helmet out of his hand and walked with big steps through the corridor towards the large and bright reception hall. Bordon was behind him the whole time. While he was still running, he put on his helmet. "What does this man think he is?" William scolded. "Who? Cornwallis?" James asked and William just twisted his eyes and suddenly stopped and turned to him. "O'Hara!" He said out loud and that one name made his pulse shoot up. "I promise James I'll figure out how to get rid of this General!" His eyes got a strange sparkle. "William and with all due respect. Your leadership qualities in all honors. But please reconsider. I don't want a new commander over the Dragoons." James was always the rock in the surf. As so often he brought William back to the ground of facts. He was exactly the opposite of the Colonel. If he was the spring breeze, William was the storm. Both knew each other since their training in the military academy. They complemented each other wonderfully. Sometimes one glance, one gesture, was enough to make the others understand where the boundaries were. When they were among themselves, they called each other by their first names. When they were together with soldiers and officers, they invoked their rank. William looked at James and a light smile scurried over his lips. "James, as always you have the talent to highlight that positive from the most difficult situations." Tavington folded the sheet with the command and stuck it into his uniform jacket. "That's why I'm your Captain, too. Your right hand and above all your friend William." Tavington nodded contentedly and grabbed James' right shoulder. "I will soon have to propose you for promotion to a Major!" "Thank you, but no. I'm very happy in the current situation." "Loyal as always." "As always." William patted James on the shoulder. "We should get out of here." Both officers started moving and went out of the building. When they had reached the stairs and the first steps behind them, a familiar voice called after the two men.


	5. The Intriguer

"Colonel Tavington!" A striking and deep voice called this name. But William and James didn't pay any attention. They ran on. The voice shouted again: "Colonel Tavington!" One could now hear quick steps. They were clearly from riding boots that rushed down the stairs. "Tavington!" An energetic and aggressive tone could be heard in the voice. It was General O'Hara who followed both officers. Tavington and Bordon had now reached the last step and were standing at the heel. They stopped and both turned to the General. He was furious and blushed in his face. His eyes were pinched together and he breathed quickly. William took note of this appearance, but he was not relaxed either. "General O'Hara," he said, and his voice let it guess that he was upset too. Bordon stepped two steps aside as O'Hara walked towards them and stood right in front of Tavington. They stood barely more than an arm's length apart. The eyes of the opponents met. The green eyes of the General looked even more poisonous in the bright light of the sun. The blue eyes of the Colonel looked even more icy here in the light. They both pulled their eyebrows together, creating a small fold between them. William had his arms hanging loosely next to his body. But his hands were clenched in fists. O'Hara left his right arm behind his back and his left arm hung down beside his saber. The seconds passed without either of them saying anything. But finally it was William who spoke first. "General O'Hara!" He didn't think long. Immediately he started talking. "Now that I have your full attention, Colonel Tavington, I would like to add something to our conversation earlier!" "Thank you General, but I know!" "You will listen to that anyway, Colonel. There will soon be no place for you and your kind in this army! It's time for change!" William came one step closer and they were now so close that both could feel the breath of each other in their faces. "What are you trying to tell me, General?" Their eyes looked at each other. They were cold and numb. "You, Tavington, and your Dragoons," O'Hara, pejoratively, pulled his face. "Yes General!" Everything was tense with William and his pulse went up. Inside his body the demons fought. As so often before, they tried to take the upper hand and there was not much left until they broke out.

O'Hara let his dark gaze wander back and forth between Tavington and Bordon. "If only your father could see you like this, Tavington. You have so nothing at all of him. Not even the honor and decency to adopt a senior officer stance. You really are a disgrace!" "Are you finally done with your remarks?" "Oh Colonel and believe me. I'm just getting started." "A word General O'Hara!" "No Tavington and you will listen to me now. The order you received from Cornwallis was hopefully understandable enough for you. There's no off duty tonight and don't get the idea of bringing any whores to camp." A snide grin was around O'Hara's mouth. "No General." "No, what Tavington?" "Those whores you mentioned. My men and I would never get the idea and bring them to camp." William looked completely innocent and yet, like he did, he wasn't. It was a lie that with the whores. Of course they would come to camp. After all, it wouldn't be the first time they're been there. O'Hara knew this very well and he also knew that Tavington would lie to him about it. "Do you mean Tavington? Why don't I believe what you're telling me? But of course and certainly. One hears so much about you and your men Colonel. You and your debauched orgies. That's just ridiculous. No, it's shameful. Oh, what am I talking about. For a gentleman like you who comes from such a distinguished family. It's really a tragedy!" "Have you finally finished your speeches General O'Hara?" "Who do you think you're talking to, Tavington?" "Do you know what I've been asking myself all along, General?" O'Hara looked at him. Waiting and challenging. "Say it to Colonel and don't be afraid. Or don't you dare, because you know Cornwallis could be around the corner at any moment. Do you have such a fear of him and hide behind him?" "I'm not afraid of anyone, General, and do you know what the difference is between you and Lord Cornwallis? I have respect for Cornwallis. You, on the other hand, are just a joke. A man who stands in the eternal shadow of the great and successful Cornwallis. You'll never be like him!" "You have a very good grasp of Tavington. Amazing for a man who sits in the saddle of a horse and sleeps with whores most of the day."

William didn't answer him and for a moment it seemed as if the men had ended their conversation. But appearances were deceptive. You could get the impression that the world was only about them and the war was declared won. "I'll give you one more well-intentioned piece of advice." "You don't have to do that, General." "You'll listen to that anyway. Whether you like it or not. If I catch you again showing my person disrespect, I promise you your days as Colonel of the Green Dragoons will be numbered and you will receive the post you deserve. As a Private who shoves the shit out of the stables." "Is that a threat to his General?" "Consider it a warning Colonel Tavington." O'Hara smiled and he knew exactly he had hit Tavington at a sore spot. It gave him a certain satisfaction and that made him exuberant. But he only showed it to the Dragooners in the form of a smile. "Gentlemen, since we would have clarified this matter so wonderfully, I would like to remind you of your orders. You will arrive punctually at the rendezvous point tomorrow morning. Everything else is in the order Cornwallis gave you. Colonel Tavington, Captain Bordon. I wish you a pleasant day." With his last words, he disappeared again and climbed up the stairs into the building. William and James stayed behind. Tavington was tense to the extreme and needed something to release the pent-up anger. He would think of something. Maybe they could attack a village of American settlers. The men would shoot them, hang them up or slit their throats. They would certainly do completely different things with the women. He would have loved to have a woman now. With her he would leave himself out. He would fuck her so hard all the time that she would collapse crying under him. But neither of those options worked. Why not actually? Of course there was a clear order that the Dragoons should stay over him for the night. But what about now? It was just morning and the afternoon and evening were still available for the preparations. William made a decision. He wanted to get rid of his anger and knew how to do it. Both men went to their horses. They climbed up. "Bordon," William said as usual, and they rode off. They trotted from the fort back to camp. But halfway along the way, Tavington slowed down his horse and stopped. Stubbornly, he looked straight ahead. James, of course, didn't go unnoticed by him. He rode to the left side of Blizzard. "What's the matter with you William?" But his Colonel said nothing. "What are you going to do?" With some concern he looked at his friend. William turned his head to James and smiled. "I give you the order to ride back to camp Captain. You will take over my post as long as I'm not there." "Great and what are you doing in the meantime?" The smile now turned into a cheeky grin and his blue eyes shone. "I'll take a look at the surroundings." "Damn William and don't do that!" "You're very welcome to join me Captain." "No, I'd better get back to camp. It would be noticeable if both of us weren't there." "Good decision!" "We'll see about that." "I'll bring you something too and wish me luck." With these words William rode away and James cursed himself just why he had not stopped him. He could only hope that Tavington wouldn't mess up. It was never good when William was alone on his tours. Something would happen, James knew that. He sighed and rode back to camp.


	6. Doubt

"Doubt"

Captain James Bordon arrived at camp. All the time when he was riding back alone, his thoughts left him no peace. It kept him too busy, the Colonel Tavington thing. This man, who was not only his superior officer, but also his friend. Especially his friend and he knew William too well and also the picture other people had of him. They saw him as an ice-cold murderer. As a butcher who would stop at nothing and nobody. But that was only one side of this man. The other, private side of William Tavington, only very few knew and those who knew them could not imagine a better friend than him.

He rode through between the tents, almost onto a paddock that was a little off camp, and came to a stop. He descended and knocked Crassus on the neck several times. A Private who was already waiting for the return of him and the Colonel picked up the reins and led the horse to a crossbeam and tied it there. He took the saddle and saddle blanket down and brought it into a special tent and put it down there. Then he went back and started cleaning Crassus.

In the meantime Bordon gave him an apple. Greedily he ate it and James looked lovingly at his horse. He gently stroked his head. He wiggled his ears and snorted contentedly. "Thank you Private," James said to the boy and he really was. A boy, a child. Not older than 16 years and despite his youth, he touchingly took care of the Dragoon horses. Bordon was bitterly upset when he saw this boy. A young man is simply robbed of his childhood. His lightheartedness. He did not want children to fight for such a thing and lose their lives. That was not right and contrary to the normal course of things. He saw the boy nod his head and Bordon went into his tent. It was so big that it could accommodate him and three more soldiers. He took off his helmet and entered.

He was received with a loud snoring. A grin appeared on his face and he shook his head slightly. He threw his helmet on the bed, followed by his gloves. As he laid down his saber, he looked at his sleeping comrade. It was Captain John Wilkens lying snoring on his bed. The picture he gave off was a scream. His body, completely twisted. His left leg hung half from the bed. His right leg bent. The arms above or below the pillow. He had no idea what he looked like. Only James who was here could see it. Slowly he walked towards John and tried to wake him up. At the beginning he did not succeed. But James became more energetic in his actions and therefore did not give up. He shook his upper body and John muttered something incomprehensible and woke up. "Hey, Captain. It's time to get up," James said and dragged Wilkens' blanket away. "Waaaa...and it's already noon? Ahhhhh disappear..." He grumbled towards James and rose slightly. He drove his left hand over his face and leaned his right arm on the bed. "Not quite, but if you keep lying there like that, then you will,' he replied. John just twisted his eyes and James grinned. "But you've been on your legs for a long time?" Bordon, who was now sitting on his bed, just nodded his head. "Colonel Tavington and I were at Fort Lexington with General Cornwallis," he said, taking his boots off. Wilkins had also sat up and listened attentively to James. "We have a new assignment." He lay down on his bed for a long time. "Mmmh," John replied. "And you, will be there with us." "Why me then? "Well, because you are reliable." Both officers looked at each other and John rose. He stepped up to James. "Great and what kind of mission is it?" Bordon turned his head and looked up. "We are to escort the General. We're going to a family that's supposed to live nearby." "What are we supposed to do there", John asked a little irritated. "I don't know, but the General wants Tavington to pick a handful of men to accompany him." "And I'm in on it?" "Yes and a few others." "Where is the Colonel anyway? I haven't seen him since last night." "He's on patrol and should be back soon," James lied to him openly. "It could have been possible that he was still lying between the thighs of the dark-haired. To be honest, that wouldn't surprise me. The way the pretty one was hanging on to our Colonel." Bordon now looked at Wilkens and he had a huge grin on his face. "Yes, it was really a hot night." He breathed deeply and then rose.

The silence in their tent was ever interrupted when they heard tumult and loud voices from outside. Quickly they ran to the entrance of the tent and stuck their heads out. There was no reason to get excited. So not directly. Because it was time for the mail and many soldiers ran excitedly back and forth and could hardly wait to finally hold the letters of their loved ones in their hands. Bordon and Wilkens also received mail. They were given their letters and the men were pleased to see them.

A short time later James had made himself comfortable near a maple tree. He had already taken off half of his uniform and he knew that nobody would be upset by this circumstance. Also an advantage if the Colonel is not present. He read his wife's letter with excitement. She waited for him at home in England, together with her 5 children. Captain James Bordon was a family man and William was amused at how James could do it. As soon as there was one child, the next one was already in work. He loved his children above all else and also his wife. Even if it wasn't easy for him to keep his fingers with him. After all, he was married and not like William, who could never keep his hands with him. Nevertheless he became weak and slept with different women. He was just a man looking for relaxation and variety. His eyes flew over the letters and he had to smile again and again when he read the lines of his wife, where she described to him in detail what all her children had done again. Also that they had a Lady Beaufort visit with her son. This lady, as James remembered, he knew all too well. Very often he had seen her then. A beautiful young woman with promising attributes. But he had no interest in her. But there was someone who probably thought a lot of her. He closed his eyes briefly and looked around. Some time had passed and there was still nothing to see of Colonel Tavington.

 _You fucking idiot, William! Move your back here back to camp before...I shouldn't have let him go. Why didn't I stop him? He will, I'm pretty sure, cause trouble somewhere. That's how I know him and that's how he's always been. He didn't let himself be influenced there either. Also not through me and nevertheless...I should have stopped him! I have failed. Sometimes I ask myself, what is all this still supposed to do here? We should disappear from her and leave the colonials their peace and quiet. Then William too would finally find his peace. Hopefully! I can only hope that O'Hara does not appear here. Then there would be even more unrest. When he learns that Tavington has left the troops without permission...my stomach turns. Damn it, William! You with your stupid ideas. You fool! You fucking bastard! I could kill him for it. Strangle yourself._

He crumpled up his letter in rage. When he noticed it, he got up quickly, stroked his vest briefly and went back into his tent. He put the letter together with the letters for the Colonel in his wooden chest, put on his uniform jacket and hurried from tent to tent, finding the right soldiers for the job. After a while he had found them all and informed them. Now only one was missing, the man who was to lead the troop. James became impatient. But he could cleverly hide it. He still needed the Dragoons to ask for Colonel Tavington's whereabouts. He was a master at telling stories as if they were true. Such a "fairy tale narrator" as he was, they believed him everything and he lied what he thought. He could only pray that one day it wouldn't all come back to him and like a cue, he thought of William and where the hell he's going again. His right hand fiddled with his jacket pocket and pulled out a silver pocket watch. He opened it and looked at the hands, which made it unmistakably clear to him what time it was, and he lifted his head, looked around and pressed his lips together.

" _Colonel William Tavington and where in God's name are you?"_


	7. The Incident Part 1

"The Incident"

Without a direct target in front of his eyes, Tavington just rode on it. He was on the road for a long time and he drove his horse forward. At a gallop they rode across meadows and fields. He was alone and also on the way he did not see a single person. It was quite astonishing. But perhaps also quite well so. Although in the present condition of the Colonel it was all the same who or how many would have met him. He would have lined up with all of them. His eyes and ears were therefore wide awake and he was always on guard to defend himself against a possible attack from ambush if it would have been necessary. But that didn't happen. Nothing happened at all and that annoyed him. He was already in a bad mood anyway and the fact that he didn't even meet a small group of militias only made him more restless. Energetically, he pushed his spur into Blizzard's belly and drove him forward. Not worrying about whether it hurt his horse, he chased them both on to peak performance. He liked that. To bring them together to the brink of complete exhaustion.

When he discovered a forest from afar, he slowed Blizzard down and went into trot. Slowly they rode towards it. Now Tavington finally noticed what performance he and his horse had been pushing themselves to. Blizzard's coat was shiny and he was sweating. He bent his head down and Tavington granted him this by letting the reins hang longer and looser. The sweat was also on his back and the white shirt he was wearing was just sticking to his body. It almost seemed as if he was sweating out of every single pore. When a drop of sweat ran along his temple, he quickly wiped it away and moved a little on his helmet. He tried to get some air on top of his shirt and opened his belt and the saber he was carrying on the left side. Carefully he stuck it to the side of the saddle. Then he opened his jacket and vest. A light breeze ran through his sweaty clothes. Tavington breathed in and out contentedly. In the meantime, they had reached the edge of the forest and he gave Blizzard the command to ride at a crotch. They rode for a few minutes and the forest around them became denser and denser. He elegantly steered Blizzard across the forest floor. Always an eye on it that his horse does not get caught with one of his hooves in a tree root. He looked attentively left and right between the trees. But there was nothing to worry him about. Only a lonely deer crossed their way as it hurried out a few meters in front of them between the bushes and then later hid in the undergrowth. Tavington loosened the reins and Blizzard could now move his head freely. He used every chance to pluck a piece of fresh grass or tear the green leaves from the trees that were right at his height. They progressed very slowly. But that didn't really bother Tavington. He tried to relax. When they stopped again and Blizzard began to grass down the forest floor, he took the chance and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. This fresh forest air did him good. He enjoyed the air. So pure and yet musty. Slowly he let the air escape from his lungs. He felt the coolness surrounding him and yet it was pleasant. Outside the forest the sun was already pressing so hard that it was almost unbearable for him who was in this uniform. It was only April and the sun was already heating up everything. His ears listened to this silence here in the forest. Silence and only the distant knocking of a woodpecker with his beak could be heard. He literally pulled this purest form of silence into himself. How much he loved these moments and also nature. Here he could be who he was. He didn't have to pretend here or do things he didn't really want to do. Here he was human, here he was allowed to be!

But this deceptive idyll did not last long. A noise, a few metres away from him, made him listen attentively. Quickly he opened his eyes and steered his horse in the direction where he suspected there must be something there. They rode on and on through the bushes. They stopped at a large oak tree. Tavington steered Blizzard behind the tree so that they could hide, but he also had a clear view of what had happened in front of him. Nothing escaped his eyes. In front of him was a small clearing and there was a small covered wagon. Two Haflingers were clamped in front of it. Right beside it a small campfire blazed and over the fire hung a pot from which it smoked. Two persons sat there. Man and woman and it seemed as if they were talking to someone who was inside the covered wagon.

He could hear the voices and it was clearly an American accent. Tavington continued to watch and was now visibly struggling to keep his eyes open and his head up. He was about to turn and ride away when something caught his attention. His ice-blue eyes suddenly turned darker and he pulled his eyebrows together slightly. An arrogant grin formed on his face. Unnoticed by him, his pulse rose and his breath accelerated. The object of his desire descended from the wagon and spoke to the people sitting by the fire. He could not believe his eyes. A girl, young and dainty, stood with her back to him. Her build was no longer that of a child, nor that of a woman. He licked his lips and took the time to take a closer look at her. His eyes wandered over her body. She had long, blonde hair and went almost to her bottom. His gaze followed the path of her hair and he got stuck on her ass. Her crunchy backside had done him good and he felt a clear pull in his lumbar region. When he saw her bend down between her parents, he sighed. Now her pretty butt rose up visibly for him. The treacherous pull became stronger and stronger and he noticed clearly how his dick pressed against the fabric of his trousers. He registered every single movement of her and saw how gently her hips moved and her small breasts were covered by the fabric of her dress.

He realized at that moment that he wanted her. He wanted to take this girl, hard and without mercy. But one small thing separated him from his happiness. It was her parents who stood in the way. First they had to die and only then could he devote himself to this young beauty. He drew up a plan and waited until the girl had disappeared again in the wagon and then quietly descended from the horse. After tying Blizzard to the tree, he slowly sneaked through the bushes and approached the people from behind. He ducked off and pulled his knife out of his boot. He looked sharply at his two victims. Unsuspecting, they sat with their backs to him. Close together and a perfect target for him. One last time he looked over to the wagon and then struck at lightning speed. With a nimble hand movement he first grabbed the man and then the woman and anyway they knew what was going on, both lay with slit throats on the forest floor. Carelessly he climbed over them and hid next to the wagon. He waited for this young thing to show itself again and he was quickly rewarded for his patience. She had heard noises and became curious and wanted to check. But when she got out of the wagon and saw her dead parents, she petrified and held her hands in front of her face in horror. Tavington rose from his squat into the stand and enjoyed her pretty rear view. His blue eyes became darker and his excitement increased. He noticed it too clearly in his pants. Slowly he approached her from behind and grabbed her with his left arm around her belly and held her firmly in his grip. She had no chance to react. While he held the knife to her neck with his right hand. "If you scream, I will kill you!" He whispered into her ear and let his hand wander over her body. The girl, full of fear and rigid with shock, did not make a sound. Her eyes were full of tears. When she winked, they ran down her cheeks. His hand moved over the small breasts and she twitched. The greed to possess her increased more and more. The hand became more energetic and pulled on the dress she was wearing. The fabric gave way and exposed her breasts. Tavington was very taken with the sight and he pressed his body firmly against hers. His erection rubbed against her back. "You are such a pretty girl," he breathed into her ear and his fingers stroked the pink nipples. Filled with fear and grief, the girl was unable to move. She tried to turn her head slightly to look at her parents. But he noticed it and pressed the blade against her neck. "They won't be able to bother us anymore!" His lips touched her neck and he kissed him. She flinched again. The hand of him drove over her dress and remained at the height of her waist. "Do you know who I am?" His voice, deep and marked by his arousal made the girl tremble. "I am the Butcher." She made a small movement and that was already her mistake. Because he grabbed her by her long hair and dragged her to the Waggon. "It is quite simple. Do what I tell you and then nothing will happen to you!" It was the pure lie. He pushed her up the wagon and pushed her to the ground.

She landed rudely on the wooden planks and painfully distorted her face. He didn't care and now also climbed up to her. She was still trying to escape from his reach. But there was no escape. Between all the belongings that belonged to her and her parents, she was trapped. She also had no idea what was about to happen. He moved to her and pushed her to the ground with all his might. His hands held her arms so tight that she felt he would break them. In vain she tried to defend herself. But against this man she would have no chance. Brutally and hard he pressed his mouth on hers. She tried to turn her head away. But Tavington grabbed her hair and pulled her head in his direction. She was forced to look at him. Her eyes full of fear and tears ran down her cheeks. He was not impressed and it left him cold. His right hand wandered over her young body, over her breasts, further down. Hastily he pushed the dress up until her legs lay naked in front of him. He had to grin at the sight. "Let's see what we have here so beautiful." He tugged at her underwear. "No...please...No," she whimpered and looked him straight into his eyes. He bent over her and tore her underwear to pieces. "Beautiful," he breathed. "You didn't want to show me that?" She only looked at him silently and heard him open his trousers. Hectically her eyes wandered over his hand and when her eyes met his hard cock, she flinched and began to defend herself violently. She was terribly afraid. Her parents had always warned her against something like this. But this time there was no warning.

"If you continue to defend yourself like this, I promise you, I will hurt you so much..." He did not speak any further, but took the dick in his right hand and led it to her pussy. His head was lowered and he looked down at himself. He wanted to see how he took the young thing into his possession. "We both want it to be fun after all." With these words he pressed violently her legs apart and closed her mouth. Without saying anything else, he penetrated her. Fast and brutal. Her voice, screaming, was suffocated by his hand which he pressed firmly on her mouth. His movements were jerky and fast. Tavington enjoyed fucking this young thing. She was still a virgin and he noticed that. Her pussy was so tight around his cock. He now increased his pace and his moaning became different. It got longer and louder. All his weight now lay on her body and his hand just on her mouth buried itself in her hair while his other hand grabbed hard in her left thigh. But she didn't notice. She was quiet and endured what Tavington did to her. Her head was turned to the side and her eyes looked rigid and empty somewhere. Tavington's mouth kissed hard along her neck and his hot breath streaked across her skin. She wished for nothing more than an end to it. She wished he would kill her. Tavington had attacked her like a wild animal and now he was fucking her faster and harder. He grabbed her arms and put them over her head. With one hand he held her wrists and his other hand put her legs around his hips one after the other. "You are so damn tight," he moaned at her neck and increased his speed again. His breath was fast and short and he noticed how he was coming soon. "Pretty virgin and you belong to me. Only me." He pinched his eyes together and once again pushed his cock violently into her pussy. With a loud groan he came into her. His dick injected the seed and filled it. He felt the pulsing and enjoyed this tight, warm pussy around his best piece. But he wasn't ready to pull him out yet. Much too much he enjoyed it. She, that small, dainty thing and what had been a virgin until just now. Her body lay motionless under him and his lips distributed tender kisses on her neck.


	8. The Incident Part 2

"The Incident Part 2"

The girl lay crying under him. While he kissed her neck all the time, his breath calmed down again. Slowly he came down from the ecstasy he had just experienced and became master of his senses again. He removed his hand from her wrists and grabbed her chin, turned her face to himself. "Look at me", he said to her and the reddened eyes met his gaze. Silently they looked at each other and the longer they were in that position, the more Tavington felt compassion. He just couldn't help it and wiped the tears off her cheek. With big eyes she stared at his face and now she looked at it more closely. He was a handsome man with an even more beautiful face and she wanted to touch it. She slowly stretched out her hand and carefully stroked the contours of his cheek and chin with her index finger. Tavington let her go and he grinned. His ice-blue eyes looked deep into hers. These eyes, his eyes - they were incredible and the girl couldn't take her eyes off them. But what she had just experienced reappeared before her again. There were those eyes again, dark and cold, they pierced her body. But something else had changed. His behaviour. He was different and she could not understand why that was so.

Tavington's hands stroked through her long blonde hair and her fingers touched the black leather strap from his helmet he was still wearing. She wanted to loosen this part but failed. Again he grinned and helped her by pulling the strap a bit forward towards his chin and finally taking off the helmet and dropping it carelessly off his side. Now she saw his eyes much better and also his hair. She was captivated by the sight. Her hand wandered further into his neck and her fingers stroked over his warm skin. The other hand of hers lay on his shirt and she felt the quick beat of his heart.

Tavington endured her tenderness and he was not surprised. He had taken her virginity a few minutes ago and enjoyed her reaction. She was no different than the other women he slept with. They all wanted his attention and they all got it. It amused him to a certain extent that these young ladies first resisted him and didn't want to admit the reactions of their bodies. Then they gave in and he got what he wanted from them. Her body and her hidden desire to satisfy her lust.

The young and pretty thing lying under him in his arms was no exception. His hand stroked over her face, over her lips and he bent his head down to her and wanted to kiss her. But at the last moment he hesitated, moved away from her and withdrew from her. Without saying a word, he sat up and knelt in front of her. His gaze wandered through the wagon. Apparently he was looking for something. It was a blanket he took now and wiped his dick with it. He threw it over to her. Confused she looked at him while he closed his pants. She tried to sit up and take the blanket. But now she clearly noticed the pain in her abdomen. Tavington saw her reaction and bent over to her. "It always hurts the first time!" Tenderly his hand stroked over her cheek. She nodded her head slightly. He took his helmet and put his knife back into his boot. Wordlessly he let her sit there and as fast as he appeared in her life, it now seemed he would disappear again just as quickly. She felt hurt, abused, alone. She had lost everything and he would leave her in her condition, she would kill herself.

But before he left the wagon, he turned to her. "What is your name', he asked and grinned. He looked arrogant. "My name is Susan," she replied. He pulled his eyebrow up. Actually it didn't matter what her name was and she was just one of many. At the latest in two hours he would have forgotten her and all this here. But until then he wanted to spend some time with her. "Colonel William Tavington, Green Dragoons," he introduced himself. Her face froze and only now did she really realize who he was.

He got out of the wagon and turned away to go. She pulled herself together despite her pain and called after him. "What happens to me now?" He turned half to her and looked at her angrily. "Now my love and that is all up to you! If you do what I tell you, then nothing will happen to you!" He looked briefly at her dead parents and then at her again. "Maybe you will rest. It would be too bad if you were too tired right away!" He grinned and she had to swallow at his sentence. She realized that he was far from finished with her and the thought of it turned her stomach and she got sick.

Tavington went straight into the forest and she looked after him. When she couldn't see him, she thought about what to do. She sat there pulling her knees very close to her body. Trembling and in pain she waited. There was no possibility for her. Just wait and hope that Colonel Tavington would let her live. It was like an eternity when he came back to her. He had tied Blizzard very close to a tree and now went back to Susan. She was still sitting there petrified.

Tavington got up into the wagon and took what he wanted and what belonged to him. After 2 hours he finally let go of her. He had taken her again and again. His greed for her was insatiable. He quickly dressed and went to his horse. In the wagon Susan lay on her side. She trembled and was in pain. Her dress she was wearing was barely more than a shred. But with all the suffering she had experienced, there was a strong will in her and she wanted to survive. She stood up and slowly and quietly got out of the wagon. Her eyes looked at Tavington and he stood with his back to her. He didn't notice how she wanted to hide in the forest. But she hadn't paid attention where she was going and so she stepped on a branch lying on the ground. It cracked loudly and she flinched. Tavington heard this noise and turned to her in a flash. His face full of anger, his eyes full of hate and he pulled his saber. She wanted to flee from him, but he was faster. With big steps he went to her. He pulled out his weapon and caught her in the back. A loud scream came out of her mouth and she collapsed. Tavington put the saber away and bent over her. Her eyes were wide open, her breath flat and fast. He sat down on her upper body so that she lay between his angled knees. With an arrogant grin he looked down at her. "You stupid girl," he said. He had pressed his teeth hard against each other. No answer came from her and he didn't expect it either. He knew only one thing. He had to end it now and here. But also that he had to be fast. The danger that he was caught here was great.

His hands grabbed her neck and he squeezed. So firm and hard that she fainted. He pulled out his knife and cut her throat. Slowly from one side to the other. The blood splashed on his uniform and face. But it didn't bother him. As he rose, he wiped his knife on his pants and put it back in his boot. "Damned virgin," he said, disdaining his mouth.

He searched the covered wagon and found what he was looking for. He took cigars, whisky and various other things with him. He packed everything in his saddlebags. He unhitched the two horses and was to accompany him as well. Slowly he rode out of the forest and no look back from him on what he had done there. No interest in the dead people. It meant nothing to him. Those people there meant nothing to him. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time and Tavington was just in time. He had a bad day anyway and his mood was pretty much in the basement. It was not okay what he was doing and he knew that too. But at that moment he didn't care and he just listened to his inner demons that drove him to it. With a relaxed face and a smile on his lips he rode back to camp. He had no idea what time it was now and that people were worried about his absence.


End file.
